


Build Me Up, Buttercup

by GarnetSeren



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, Recovering Alcoholic, Self-Esteem Issues, Strangers to Lovers, Supportive Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: After everything that's happened to him, Shane is perfectly content to keep everyone but his god-daughter at arms length. It's a strategy that's kept nearly all the residents of Stardew away from him, which suits him just fine. Because if people don't get close to him, he can't care about them. And if he doesn't care about them, he doesn't have to worry about them leaving. But all that changes when a new farmer moves into the abandoned place up from his Aunt's ranch. She's too friendly, too optimistic, too kind, too caring... too damn pretty. And try as he might, Shane just can't seem to manage to warn her off.





	1. Chapter 1

“So... are you going to ask her?”

Shane glared at Emily over his plastic cup of weak-ass punch. She was the only person he considered a friend, not just in town but in general, and it was that sole fact that stopped him telling her to fuck off. Also, because she was his friend and about the only bloody person who actually knew him, Shane didn't bother trying to play dumb by asking who she was talking about. He knew who she meant, she knew who she meant. Hell... he had a feeling even Jas knew who she meant, if the way his god-daughter giggled was any indication.

“No.”

Fighting the urge to wince at his own aggressive tone, Shane continued to glare at Emily who had the audacity to continue grinning at him. He was only at the stupid Flower Festival because Jas had begged him to take her; and though Shane knew he was a no good, alcoholic deadbeat, he did try not to let his god-daughter down too much. He'd even endured the not so subtle 'oh... he actually came' comments that were whispered none too quietly, and it was only for Jas' sake that he didn't tell them all to go fuck themselves.

There were only three people in the whole town that Shane tolerated, perhaps even liked, other than Jas and his Aunt Marnie. They consisted of Emily, Gus and Pam... and other than the sapphire haired woman still grinning at him, one was the local bar tender and the other was essentially his drinking buddy. A fellow washed up drunk who enjoyed a pint or seven without much conversation.

But then someone new moved into the valley, took over the old abandoned farm not far from his aunt's ranch. A woman with an utterly annoying sunny disposition who seemed to have made it her life's goal to befriend everyone in the bloody town. Hell, she'd not even been around for a month and even cantankerous old George seemed to like her.

Shane on the other hand wasn't sure if she was annoying or barmy, what with her insisting on saying hello every time she saw him. Hell, she'd even bought him a drink the other night when she'd dropped by the pub with a fresh order of parsnips for Gus; didn't even stop to try talk. Just bought him a beer then left.

“You should dance with Emily,” Jas said, in that sing-song way only little kids can manage.

“That's an excellent idea,” his friend agreed, her smile widening.

“That way you can impress you know who,” his god-daughter advised, as serious as a seven year old could be.

“I agree,” Emily nodded, enthusiastically.

Of course, that was the exact moment the new farmer wandered over to them, Jas finally letting go of his hand to run over to her. Shane's heart felt like it was in his mouth, as he waited for his god-daughter to blurt out _something_ to her. But to his relief, Jas only wanted to tell her she looked pretty in her sundress... which was both true, and a real change from the soil covered jeans and boots she normally wore, not that he noticed.

He almost smiled as he watched the farmer kneel down with Jas, letting his god-daughter sit in her lap making daisy chains and animatedly talking about the new chickens the farmer had recently bought from Aunt Marnie. Since her parents death, Jas had been shy and withdrawn, she wasn't good with strangers... until the farmer came along. The pair had seemed to hit it off instantly, and it really was nice to see. Shane honestly would have smiled about it, if not for Emily's annoyingly knowing grin.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Shane sat on the docks of the forest lake as the balmy air ruffled his hair. It was obvious summer was on it's way, not that it really made a difference to him. It was always just the same shit, different day. Though tonight did feel a little different, probably because he'd all but stormed out the pub earlier; unable to watch that damn Elliott fawn all over the farmer... okay, so the pompous git only bought her a glass of wine. But he'd heard them toast their new friendship, and watched them talk and laugh together for half a hour before it just got too much.

It wasn't that he _cared_. They were just bloody annoying.

So he'd stomped home, actually debating an early night before helping his aunt with her chickens in the morning. But he'd only managed to lay on his rumpled bed for a few minutes before his mind helpfully provided that _maybe_ he could have what Elliott had with the farmer... if he stopped being a complete dick for once. After that unhelpful thought, his mind spiralled and spiralled, until he'd eventually reached under his bed for one of the six packs. Figuring escaping his bomb site of a room might help his shitty thoughts, he'd gone to drink by the lake.

He hadn't expected anyone else to be out so late at night, so Shane jumped a little when he heard footsteps on the weather-worn planks. He was even more surprised when the person finally came into the light of his lantern, and he realised it was the farmer with a bloody fishing rod propped on her shoulder. He honestly thought she'd still be at the pub with the pretty boy. An angry sigh wanted to escape him at the thought, so to hide it Shane took a generous swig of his tepid beer.

“Up late, huh?”

It was an idiotic thing to say, and Shane felt like kicking himself... it was obvious why she preferred Elliott's company to his. Pretty boy had a way with words after all. And dressed nice. And had his own place. And ambition. And fuck... Shane knew he was such a fucking loser and was making a complete fucking fool out of himself. He expected the farmer to laugh at him for being such a dumb shit, but all she did was give a small hum of agreement as she set down her tackle box, before sitting on the edge of the dock.

“Willy said there was some decent night fishing here,” she said, smiling up at him. “It's supposed to rain tomorrow, so I won't need to be up at dawn to water my crops.”

“Well here, have a cold one.”

Why Shane thought it was a good idea to offer her a can was beyond him, especially when she chuckled at him. He was about to withdraw his arm holding our the beer, feeling utterly stupid and a viscous retort on the tip of his tongue... until her warm fingers brushed against his when she took the can from him.

“Cold one, in this heat... sure,” she teased, popping the beer open and taking a sip. “Yoba! Fuck! That's vile.”

Shane snorted at her outburst, but was subtly impressed when she simply chugged the bloody thing; her nose wrinkling in disgust even as she crumpled the now empty can. She looked kinda cute when she did that.

“Fast drinker, huh?”

It was the farmer's turn to snort, as she cast out into the lake. After that they sat in not quite an uncomfortable silence, Shane starting to feel more on edge the longer they sat side by side. Not so long ago he'd been pissed that Elliott had stolen all her attention... attention Shane didn't normally want anything to do with; because attention meant feelings, and feelings meant caring, and caring meant someone else to worry about losing. But now it was just the two of them, sitting together, alone on what objectively could be called a beautiful night. But all Shane could think to say was:

“Bah... life.”

The farmer gave another huff of laughter. “I'd drink to that.”

Without thinking, Shane handed her another can. “You ever fell like... no matter what you do, you gonna fail? Like you're stuck in some miserable abyss and you're so deep you can't even see the light of day?”

“It's actually what made me move out here,” she admitted, quietly. “My job paid well enough but it was going nowhere. I had a decent apartment, but not in a great part of the city. I just felt trapped, like there was no end in sight. There was a near fatal stabbing not far from my apartment block, and I spent weeks on edge thinking I was going to be the next mugging victim. I felt like I was just going through the motions, that there wasn't an end in sight... and that it probably didn't matter because I would probably be dead next week, killed by some random thug.” She paused to reel in a fish. “Then I got Grandpa's letter.”

“Good for you,” he replied, actually meaning it more than it sounded. “I just feel like no matter how hard I try... I'm not strong enough to climb out of that hole.”

He snorted when she knocked back the second can, grimacing again before she cast back out.

“A woman after my own heart,” he found himself teasing, proving he was drunker than he'd ought to be. “Just don't make it a habit... you got a future ahead of you still.”

“So do you,” she said, quietly. Before giving a disgruntled grunt. “Good fishing my arse, bloody ass-hole Willy.” She stifled a yawn. “I need my bed.”

“Welp... my liver's beggin' me to stop,” Shane supplied, getting unsteadily to his feet. “So I better call it a night.”

For some reason, he waited for her to pack up her gear and walked back to the forest path with her. He even managed a hint of a smile when she suggested that 'next time' she'd bring the whiskey she had back at the farm... Shane knew there wouldn't be a next time, because the only person stupid enough to still put up with his sorry ass beside Marnie and Jas was Emily. But it was a nice gesture all the same.

“See you around, farmer,” he said as they reached the fork in the road.

“I have a name you know,” she stated, smirking at him.

“I know,” he shrugged, attempting to return her smile.

The farmer laughed, and for some reason Shane felt a little proud of himself for that. It didn't even matter than she called him an ass-hole as she waved goodbye, because his alcohol addled mind decided to notice that she actually sounded kind of affectionate when she said it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

She frowned as she entered Marnie's shop, it wasn't like the redhead not to be at the counter unless it was a Tuesday. She debated whether or not she should knock on the woman's bedroom door, that stood about a foot away from the till, before she heard Marnie's voice from the next room over. Since she'd been given an open invitation to the ranch's kitchen, she cautiously entered the blue tiled room, only to see Marnie through a separate open door. The woman looked a mix of angry and worried, and she couldn't help clearing her throat to catch the redhead's attention; she wanted to help if she could, but didn't want to just barge around someone else's house.

“Oh Missy! Can you do something? It's Shane, he's out cold.”

Despite the situation, she couldn't help the small smile at the stupid nickname... she'd called Marnie 'ma'am' when they'd first met, and the redhead hadn't let her live it down. She'd been calling her 'missy' in retaliation ever since, and she was actually convinced that little Jas genuinely thought it was her name by now; which was utterly adorable, but not exactly relevant right then.

So hesitantly she stepped into the room she supposed was Shane's, finding him passed out on the floor surrounded by beer cans, and the stench of stale alcohol heavy in the air. Thinking back to the first aid crash course Maru had insisted on giving her... in case anything ever happened on the farm and she couldn't get to the clinic... she moved him properly into the recovery position, before going to open the window.

She seriously debated dumbing the bottle of water she was carrying over his head, but doubted that would do much more than soak the already abused looking carpet. Instead, she asked Marnie to get her a flannel and a bowl of cold water before kneeling on the floor next to Shane. It took several minutes of her wiping the chilly flannel over his warm face, but eventually his eyes blinked open and he tried to fix his gaze on her.

Not knowing what on earth had caused Shane to drink himself into a stupor, she didn't intend to ask any difficult questions; instead planning to offer him her bottle of water, and ask Marnie if she had any extra strength headache relief. But before she could open her mouth, the redhead completely lost it.

She ducked her head, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible during the shouting, even whilst she helped Shane sit upright. She couldn't help frown. Sure, drinking until you passed out blind drunk was not a good idea... neither was drinking every night at the pub like she was sure Shane did... but she was also a pretty firm believer that nobody _chose_ to become an alcoholic. Something must have happened to make Shane the way he was, and she doubted that shouting at him was going to change the situation.

But it wasn't her place to say anything; in fact she felt extremely uncomfortable being in the house let alone the same room, though she couldn't help be worried by Shane's not-so-subtle hint at how bad his now obvious depression was. However, a tiny squeak of noise had her whipping around to face the bedroom door, just catching the retreating back of Jas. She heard Marnie call the young girl's name and Shane swear loudly, but all she could think to do was chase after the poor girl.

She found Jas at the tree the girl usually loved to skip under; huddled against the trunk and shaded from the dazzling early summer sun by the overhead canopy. She could hear the girl's sobs as she approached, and knew there was nothing much she'd be able to say to console the child, or make her understand what was going on. Instead, she chose to sit down beside her, opening her arms and let Jas crawl into her lap to cry.

 


	4. Chapter 4

He barely registered the cool rain hitting his skin as he sprawled face down on the grass. He groaned, wishing that the copious amounts of alcohol he'd drank would have finally given him the courage to just... leap. Thunder crashed overhead, drowning out the sound of waves that smashed into the bottom of the cliff face, and Shane wished he could move just a little further towards the edge; or just roll over, so he could choke on the vomit that was bound to come.

But then he felt a hand touch the side of his neck, and cracking his stinging eyes open, a fuzzy yellow shape came into view. For a moment he thought he was being attacked by a giant daffodil, and he flailed for a moment trying to defend himself, until the yellow blob said his name. It took him much longer than it should to realise he wasn't being attacked by a mutant, out of season flower. Though the reality didn't seem much better.

It had only been a few days since the farmer had seen him passed out on his bedroom floor, days where he'd wallowed in self pity and misery, his depression spiralling. Shane had tried to endure, tried to cope with Jas' new nervousness around him and Marnie's continuously disapproving looks. But he'd sunk so low that when Jas announced with a tentative excitement that Miss Penny was going to take her and Vincent camping up at the farm, Shane knew what he had to do. He had to end it... he was screwing up his god-daughter too much, and she'd be far better off without him.

So he'd gone to the cliff, armed with enough beers to down a horse in order to give himself some liquid courage... only to find the farmer peering down at him; whilst dressed in a yellow rain mac, sou'wester and matching wellies... she kind of looked like a concerned buttercup as she squatted down beside him.

“I'm... sorry...” he slurred. “M... my life... pathetic joke...”

“Shane,” she sighed.

“N..no. Look at me...” he rambled, morosely. “Why do I even try?”

Whilst he talked, Shane hadn't realised that the farmer had sat down on the sodden ground next to him. If he'd had the coordination, he'd have probably jumped when she took hold of his hand. He tried to shuffle to sit up, but somehow just ended up moving so his head was in her lap; and for the first time Shane _really_ hoped he wouldn't throw up, not now his stubbled cheek was pressed against her denim clad thigh.

“I'm too small and stupid to... to take control of my life,” he sobbed. “I'm just a p-piece of soiled g-garbage... flittering in the wind.”

The farmer remained silent, though her fingers began to comb through his soaked and matted hair; and even through his drunken haze, Shane got the impression that instead of being at a loss for words, she was simply giving him the chance to get everything off his chest. Something no one had ever done for him before... not even Emily, who just made it her life's mission to try cheer him up. The farmer on the other hand seemed content to listen. Shane wasn't sure if he appreciated that, but it seemed like the filter from his brain to his mouth had bust, because now he'd started talking he just couldn't stop.

“I've been coming here often lately... looking down...” he slurred. “Here's a chance to finally take control of my life... these cliffs... B-but I'm too scared, too anxious. Just like always...”

“That's a good thing,” she assured, barely audibly over the thunder.

“All I do is work, sleep, and drink. T-to dull the feelings of self-hatred,” Shane continued. “Why should I even go on? Tell me... t-tell me why I shouldn't roll off this cliff right now...”

“You mean like saying Jas needs you, because you're like a father to her? Or being selfish and admitting I care about you and would miss you terribly, as would Emily and Marnie?” she replied, evenly. “At the end of the day it's your decision... just know that I'm here for you. But I'd prefer for you to stick around.”

Shane managed to roll over, the back of his head propped against her crossed legs as he looked up at her. Rain drops were steadily dripping off the brim of her sou'wester, and even through the haze, he couldn't help wondering how dry her battered looking rain gear was actually keeping her. She really looked like a drowned buttercup.

“Thanks...” he mumbled. “I appreciate that... I really do...”

“Anytime. I'm here, okay? But I think we should get you home.”

He nodded, but winced when a stabbing pain shot through his head. His stomach churned and it felt like the whole world suddenly tilted. He didn't feel right.

“I...I think it m-might be a good idea to go the c-clinic, B-buttercup. I d-don't feel so good.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Stifling a groan she blinked up at the Harvey's face. He smiled at her kindly, handing her an unexpected cup of coffee before sitting down beside her. She hadn't meant to doze off in the clinic's waiting room, but there'd been no way she was going to go home and leave Shane to his fate. He' reached out to her, asked for help, and she couldn't just abandon him. Even if it had taken a hour to slowly walk him from the cliffs, through the forest and back into town. Something that would have normally only taken twenty minutes.

She'd been genuinely terrified that he'd completely collapse before she got him to the doctor, but now Harvey was patiently repeating what he'd done to stabilise Shane... though she barely registered the doctor shyly explain he'd put her down as 'significant other' on the admission forms, allowing him to actually _tell_ her what the hell was going on. She was just too relieved that Shane would be okay.

She offered the young doctor a grateful smile, truly thankful that he'd gotten out of his bed at midnight to answer her frantic knocking. If it hadn't been for Harvey, she didn't know what she would have done.

The smile even remained as they began to discuss Shane's mental health, and for the first time that night, she recounted _everything_ that had happened; not just finding him almost black out drunk. Sure, he might hate her for betraying his confidence, but she knew Harvey wasn't going to gossip... and Shane _really_ needed help. Professional help. And thankfully, the good doctor apparently knew just the person. Now, if only Shane would accept the help that was being offered...

 


	6. Chapter 6

Shane fidgeted as he waited for her to answer the farmhouse door.

When he'd woken in the clinic he'd been utterly confused; he could barely remember the night before, only snippets of her dragging his sorry ass away from the cliff... and of calling her buttercup. Which was cringe worthy, but he didn't remember her slapping him for it, so perhaps she hadn't hated it. Which was almost, sort of promising.

But it wasn't like he could ask her, since he'd woken up alone in the sterile white clinic. For a moment Shane figured she'd dumped his pathetic ass and legged it, but apparently that wasn't the case. Since the moment Harvey came to see him, instead of starting with berating him or giving him a run down of treatment and cost, he'd let Shane know the farmer stayed the night but had gone to see to her farm... though not before settling his medical bill for him.

Shame had settled in his stomach at that revelation; he hated owing people at the best of times, and this was far from it. He was nothing but a burden, and why the farmer continued to put up with him was beyond Shane... it wasn't like he meant anything to her. But he was interrupted from his self-depreciating spiral by the doctor's calming voice, and when the man offered to contact a specialist in the city, Shane only hesitated for a moment.

He remembered the farmer admitting she cared about him, and that she'd prefer to have him around... whether it was friendly or romantic he didn't know, he didn't really believe her, but he guessed it was nice to hear all the same. He remembered her stating that Jas needed him, and though Shane had always known that, hearing someone else say it seemed to be the kick up the arse he really needed.

So he already owed the farmer a lot.

But then he discovered she'd stopped by the ranch and told Marnie he'd had 'an accident' in the forest last night, tripping and falling due to the awful weather and bad visibility instead of what really happened. Whether or not his aunt bought it he didn't know, but it prompted Shane to head to the farm as soon as Marnie and Jas let him out of their sights; only to be called back by his god-daughter, who'd thrust a hastily assembled bouquet of wild flowers at him, insisting he gave them to the farmer as a thank you.

Which was why he was stood on her doorstep so early on a Sunday morning, shuffling from foot to foot, wondering if she was going to get the wrong idea about the flowers... and if the wrong idea would actually be the wrong idea. Since Shane could kind of admit, at least to himself, that he did sort of, really like the farmer.

However, he'd been so lost in his head that he didn't actually notice her open the door; jumping and nearly dropping the stupid bouquet when she quietly said his name. A blush was very painfully creeping up his neck as he fumbled, practically shoving the flowers into her arms whilst seriously debating just bolting for it... to try and save some shred of dignity, not that he actually had any left. And besides, he owed her so much more than that; quietly frankly, he owed her his life.

“Hey... Oh man... um... how do I say this?” he mumbled, nervously. “I'm really sorry for what happened last night... at the cliff. That was... embarrassing...”

She smiled at him softly. “I'm just glad I was there to help, and glad you're still here.”

“Wow. It was that serious huh? I can hardly remember...” he trailed off to take a deep breath, trying to swallow passed the sudden lump in his throat. “I thought you might want to know, I've decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got in touch with a colleague of his...”

He had not been expecting the farmer to suddenly hug him; flinging an arm around his neck whilst the other held the now squashed bouquet between them. He floundered for a moment, before cautiously slipping his arms around her waist. Shane couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged by anyone other than Jas, and he was incredibly glad he'd grabbed a shower the moment he'd gotten to the ranch earlier; otherwise he imagined being pressed against his pudgy body would be even more unpleasant for the farmer, than it probably already was. But that train of thought was derailed when she suddenly kissed his cheek.

“I'm so proud of you,” she whispered, grinning at him.

Shane blushed, unused to praise, and pulled away awkwardly. “Anyway... I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me. And I want you to know I'm going to take things a little more seriously from now on. I don't want to be a burden to anyone...”

“You're not a burden,” she assured. “And I've never once thought you didn't take things seriously. Depression is a bitch, but you don't have to face it alone.”

That stupid lump in his throat had gotten bigger, and once again Shane thought about fleeing; until her free hand came to rest on his bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze... the other still cradling the battered flowers like they actually meant something to her.

“You want to come in for some tea? The kettle's just boiled.”

He hesitated a moment before giving her a small smile. “Yeah, alright. If you're sure.”


	7. Chapter 7

She winked at Shane when he glanced over her shoulder, smiling somewhat shyly at her. It was almost as if he was checking she was still there... like she hadn't gone into the city today with him for his first appointment, then traipsed around the shopping mall, looking for a pair of shoes Jas had been wanting. She was hardly going to duck out on seeing the little girl's face light up when Shane gave them her; nor was she going to say no to the gaming session he'd invited her to, especially since it was obviously it had taken him some courage to actually ask her. There was also the small matter of her helping to carry the bags of new clothing she'd convinced Shane to treat himself to, so she placed her palm between his shoulder blades, hoping to reassure him before he stepped into the ranch.

“You sure you don't mind still hanging out with me?” he asked.

“News flash, Shane. I like spending time with you. You're not actually bad to be around when you're not being a grumpy git,” she teased.

He gave a small huff. “Gee... thanks for that, buttercup.”

Smiling, she shook her head at the nickname that had seemingly come from nowhere. It was kind of adorable. However, she wasn't entirely sure why he seemed to be so nervous about going home. Was it because he'd invited her over, or perhaps he was worried he'd gotten the wrong shoes for Jas? But then she heard Marnie's voice, and though she liked the redhead, something put her on edge when she stated Shane looked 'unusually happy'. For some reason, the comment made her bristle.

“You're right. I haven't felt this like since I was a kid,” he told his aunt.

“Let me guess... Gus had a clearance on canned beer?” Marnie replied, unimpressed.

She watched aghast as Shane's shoulders sank, and was pretty damn sure the rancher had no idea she'd come home with him, at least she hoped Marnie didn't go around embarrassing Shane like that in front of people... not that it was any better if said in private. It was a disgusting thing to say, and unable to help herself, she slipped past her friend to confront Marnie; who looked visibly surprised to see her.

“Don't you bloody dare!” she spat, livid. “No wonder Shane didn't reach out to anyone before, if that's the sort of support he's been getting! Do you have any idea what he's going through? You obviously have no idea how bloody hard he's trying... and you go say bullshit like that!”

To her surprise, she felt Shane's free arm wrap around her shoulder; steering her towards the kitchen, where they'd heard Jas humming to herself just before. The humming had stopped now, presumably because of her raised voice, but she found it hard to care. The little girl deserved to know her god-father was trying to get better, and that he had someone determined to support him.

“Come on, buttercup. We need to see Jas,” he stated, before turning back to his aunt. “I've actually been drinking sparkling water instead of beer... and I feel great. I'd forgot I really do have friends, people who care about me. And it's okay for me to rely on them.”

He punctuated his last sentence with a squeeze of her shoulders, and she couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. She was honoured Shane had trusted her enough to let her in.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Shane tried not to fidget nervously as he waited for the farmer, instead he rubbed his cheek affectionately against Charlie's head; the chicken's white feathers soft against his stubble covered skin. He knew she wouldn't be long, Jas had been so eager to run up to the farmer and get her, just as excited... if not more so... than Shane was to show her their new project.

He snorted to himself. Project. It sounded so juvenile, but he was too nervous, too scared to call it exactly what it was... his new job.

After several sessions with his therapist, Shane had realised that his job with Joja was just contributing to his depression. He needed an out, and after one memorable dinner with the farmer, where he'd sat entranced listening her talking animatedly about how she left her old life behind and how much she loved the farm, Shane had formed a plan.

Somehow he hadn't been a complete fuck up, and had managed to save a modest amount of gold. So after fretting over it for a week, he'd finally plucked up the courage to approach his Aunt Marnie. Afterwards, he wasn't sure why he'd actually been so nervous. She'd readily agreed to let him have a portion of the barn for his new venture, and even sold him the dozen chickens at a discounted rate; the majority of them were actually the rare blue hens he'd been raising for Marnie for months... payment for having a roof over their heads, since his aunt wouldn't accept rent money.

He knew 'egg farmer' was hardly a glamorous job, and other than his aunt and Jas, no one else knew that he actually understood what he was doing; that rearing chickens and farming eggs wasn't some blind leap on his part. But now that his eleven blue hens had matured and been joined by Charlie... who was more a pet than anything else, Shane was ready to let people know. Well, one person at least. And if the farmer didn't laugh in his face, he might consider telling Emily as well.

However, his nerves began to get the better of him when he heard Jas' voice just beyond the barn door. He knew it meant the farmer was with her, and he couldn't help the stupid flip his stomach seemed to do, when he watched her walking in hand-in-hand with his god-daughter.

“So... what do you think?” Shane asked, still sitting with Charlie in his lap. “I know it's not really much, but I wanted something to pass on to Jas when she's older. We've been raising these chickens for months, I've been teaching her how to care for them.”

“Shane... this is...”

“I want to feel like I'm not a leech on the world,” he added, hurriedly, interrupting her before she could put his idea down. “I want to contribute some way, even in a small town like this.”

“Shane. This is amazing,” she stated, looking around the barn. “Are you just planning on selling the eggs, or are you going to turn some into mayo?”

“Um... eggs?” Shane replied, hesitantly.

“We don't have a machine,” Jas supplied, shrugging.

“I have a couple of older ones lying about you could have,” the farmer suggested.

“I haven't... ah... got any savings left,” he admitted, quietly. Not daring to look at either her or Jas.

“Shane, they're old machines. They're just taking up room in the shed. You'd be doing me a favour taking them,” she stated, a smile in her voice.

“Wow!” Jas exclaimed, excitedly. “Can we Uncle Shane? Can we? Can we?”

He glanced up at the farmer, trying to decide how realistic her 'old machines' comment was. Would she really have old ones just gathering dust? Did she really not want anything for them? But she just gave him an easy smile, nonchalantly standing with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

“Are you sure?” he asked, cautiously.

“I certainly don't want any gold for them, I honestly made them when I first got the coup. I've upgraded since then,” she insisted. “But if you really won't accept them for free, the pair of you could come help near harvest... and I always need taste testers for the jams I make.”

Jas _squealed._ Genuinely squealed with excitement; wrapping her arms around the farmer's legs, whilst jigging up and down. Shane wasn't sure if his little girl was more excited about the mayo machines, or becoming a taste tester. But either way, he was hard pressed not to smile, when the farmer knelt down in order to give his god-daughter a proper hug.

“As long as you're sure,” he told her. “Then you have a deal.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

It was still absolutely pouring down with rain, and the roof was closed over the Gridball stadium in order for the game to continue. Flood lights brightly illuminated the pitch, the scent of hot bogs were in the hair, and the crowd was cheering loudly... not that Shane could really focus on anything happening around him, or even the game. He was far too acutely aware of the way the farmer sat beside him; her shoulder pressed up against his as she huddled down into her jacket and scarf for warmth.

It was chilly in the stadium, and it probably didn't help that she'd gotten drenched running to the bus stop to meet him; apparently one of her goats had munched a hole through her sou'wester, and her cat was holding her rain mac to ransom... her words, not his. So he'd felt her shivering throughout their bus journey, and more than once Shane had been tempted to slip an arm around her, but worried he'd be crossing some invisible line between them.

He'd tried to content himself with the press of her thigh against his, as they squeezed into one of the uncomfortable old bus seats together. And again, now at the stadium, he tried to remember that the press of her arm against his was more than he deserved. But he couldn't ignore her shivering... nor how much he wanted to hold her.

So more thought than was probably necessary went into him shrugging out of his own jacket; a brown leather one she'd convinced him to buy, that first time she'd come into the city with him. He was also wearing dark denim jeans and a black long sleeve she'd also picked out for him. They were the trendiest things he'd ever owned, and he didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about draping his jacket over her shoulders... at least, not embarrassed by the state of it.

The farmer grinned up at him, her arms coming to curl around his as her head propped up against his shoulder. It would have been nice, more than nice, if he couldn't feel her still shivering. Several minutes went by as he debated with himself, the game lost to him as he struggled what to do. But eventually, he gently shook her off. Though before she could get the wrong idea, Shane quickly wrapped his arm around her shoulders, before he lost the nerve.

“You know, I've been meaning to say... uh, thanks for sticking by me through everything... my anxiety, my depression... you know. You've bee a really good friend to me,” he told her, riding his wave of courage.

She smiled at him, her hand finding and squeezing his thigh. Though before she could reply a cheer went up from the crowd, and Shane's attention snapped back to the pitch. The Tunneller's had scored the winning goal. He glanced down at the farmer, and noticed she was already grinning up at him, seeming excited about the result despite admitting she knew nothing about Gridball. She looked stunning, even more than usual. And in a moment of sheer madness, Shane leant down to kiss her... before immediately pulling back like he'd been burned.

“Shit! Um... sorry... shit! I got carried away. I... ah... maybe had one too many?”

The farmer gave a soft snort. “Nice try, Casanova. You're drinking water.”

Shane floundered, trying to thinking up a better excuse for more or less assaulting her. She was probably repulsed now, he'd probably thrown their friendship away in a moment of stupidity. She probably hated it... scratch that, the farmer would have definitely hated it. Why would she want some washed up, pudgy, grouchy ex-shelf stocker to kiss her; especially when she had men like Elliott, Sebastian, Sam and Alex sniffing around her all the time.

However, his train of thought was derailed when he felt her cold fingers curl around the collar of his long-sleeved top, and for reasons beyond him, Shane found his lips firmly planted against the farmer's once again. He couldn't help groan against her mouth, her lips were stupidly soft. And when he finally dared to run his tongue along the seam of them, he could taste the Joja cola she'd been drinking. His arm curled tighter around her shoulders, whilst his free hand found hers and squeezed.

He was debating pushing his luck and properly deepening the kiss, before hoots and wolf-whistles could be heard from the crowd. Immediately self-conscious, Shane pulled back, a blush already creeping up his neck when he suddenly gave a mortified exclamation... it definitely wasn't a squeak, no matter what the farmer said. Not that it really mattered he supposed, when he was face-to-face with his ugly mug splashed across the 'kiss-cam'.

Shane couldn't believe his dumb luck, he was so ashamed of himself. The farmer must have be so embarrassed and repulsed at her momentary lapse of sanity being broadcast like that. He barely dared meet her eyes, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he frantically thought of _anything_ he could do to make it up to her. Anything to stop losing her friendship. But the words died on his tongue when he saw her smirking at him... and Shane couldn't help thinking it was the sexiest fucking thing he'd ever seen.

And then she was kissing him again. Hard and determined, and all he could do was surrender even as more wolf-whistles sounded around them. Really, he thought she was mad. Why would she want him of all people? But as her tongue demanded entrance and her hand slowly slid up his thigh, Shane figured he was more than happy with her brand of crazy.

 


End file.
